Follow the Saint Read Free Page A

and
the extra start he had gained from the Saint’s hesitation had given him a lead
which even Simon Templar’s long legs
doubted their ability to make up. Simon gave up the idea with a regretful sigh,
and stooped to find out how much
damage had been sustained by his favourite enemy.
    It only
took him a moment to assure himself that his existence was
unlikely to be rendered permanently unevent ful by the premature
removal of its most pungent spice; but nevertheless there was also no doubt
that Teal was tempor arily in the land of dreams, and that it
would do the Saint himself
no good to be found standing over his sleeping body. On the other hand, to leave Mr Teal to finish his sleep in peace
on the sidewalk was something which no self-respect ing buccaneer could do. The actual commotion from which the
situation had evolved had been practically negligible. Not a window had been flung up; not a door had been
opened. The street remained sunken in its twilight torpor, and once again there
was no other living soul in sight.
    The Saint
shrugged. There seemed to be only one thing to do, so he did it. With a certain amount
of effort, he picked up Mr Teal’s weighty
person and heaved it into the car, dumped
Teal’s macintosh and hat on top of him, picked up an oblong yellow
package which had fallen out of his pocket and
slung that in as well, got into the driving seat himself, and drove away.
    That
Simon’s diagnosis had been accurate was proved by the fact that Teal
was beginning to groan and blink his eyes when the Hirondel
pulled up at his front door. The Saint lighted a cigarette
and looked at him reproachfully.
    “I’m
ashamed of you,” he said. “An old man of your age, letting yourself
be picked up in the gutter like that. And not even during licensing
hours, either. Where did you get the embalming fluid ?”
    “So
it was you, was it ?” Teal muttered thickly.
    “I
beg your pardon ?”
    “What
the hell was the idea?” demanded Teal, with a growing indignation
which left no doubt of his recovery.
    “The
idea of what?”
    “Creeping
up behind me and knocking me on the head! If you think I’m going to let
you get away with that—— ”
    “Claud,”
said the Saint, “do I understand that you’re accusing me again?”
    “Oh,
no!” Teal had his eyes wide open now, and they were red with wrath.
The edge of his sarcasm was as silky and delicate as the blade of a crosscut saw. “It was
two other people. They fell out of the sky
with parachutes—— ”
    The Saint
sighed.
    “I
don’t want to interrupt you. But can this great brain of yours see
any particular reason why I should cosh you today ? We haven’t seen each other
for ages, and so far as I know you haven’t been doing anything to make me
angry. And even if you had, and I thought it would be good for you to be bopped over
the bean, do you think I’d take the trouble to bring you home
afterwards? And even if I brought you home afterwards, do you think I’d let
you wake up while I was still around, instead of bopping you again and leaving you to wake up without knowing I’d been anywhere near you? I am
a very modest man, Claud,” said the Saint un truthfully, “but
there are some aspersions on my intelligence which cut me to the
quick, and you always seem to be the guy who thinks of them.”
    Mr Teal
rubbed his head.
    “Well,
what did happen ?” he demanded grudgingly.
    “I
don’t really know. When I shot over the horizon, there was some guy in the act
of belting you over the lid with a handy piece of lead pipe. I thought of asking him to stop
and talk it over, but he ran too fast. So I
just loaded you into the old jalopy and brought you home. Of course, if you
really wanted to go on dozing in the
gutter I can take you back.”
    The detective
looked about him. His aching skull was clearing a little,
enough at least for him to be able to see that this latest misfortune was
something which, for once, might not be chargeable to the Saint’s